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Nadat ik mijn droomhuis had gekocht, probeerde de familie van mijn man zonder mijn toestemming in te trekken

« Cool, » mompelde hij, zonder op te kijken van zijn telefoon. « Wat eten we? »

Ik had de waarschuwingssignalen op dat moment moeten zien. Maar ik was te blij om er iets om te geven.

The Housewarming — And the Uninvited Guests

On the morning of the housewarming, I woke up lighter than I had in years. The house smelled like fresh paint and vanilla candles. I arranged snacks, placed flowers on the table, and stood back to admire the home I had built with my own hands.

Then the doorbell rang.

Jack’s parents stood on the doorstep. Uninvited.

Diane brushed past me like she owned the place.

“Finally,” she sighed dramatically. “Took you long enough to get a real house. That apartment was suffocating.”

Her husband, Harold, tapped the wall as if checking for termite infestations.

“Not bad,” he grunted. “Hope you didn’t overpay.”

I forced a smile. This was supposed to be a good day.

Then Diane clapped her hands together.

“Well,” she said to Harold, “should we bring the bags in now or after dinner?”

For illustrative purposes only

I blinked. “Bags?”

She looked at me like I was slow.

“Our bags. Didn’t Jack tell you?”

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